


Tony Stark: Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist…Dad?

by mars_juna



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Bisexual Peter Parker, Fluff, Gen, Peter Parker Has Nightmares, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Peter Parker is a Damsel in Distress, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Trans Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mars_juna/pseuds/mars_juna
Summary: Peter Parker is adorable. Tony will literally fight anyone who says otherwise. Yeah, he loved the kid. But like in a mentor/protege way. Mm-hm. Not like he was his son. Nope.Tony, buddy. Who are you kidding?
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 186





	1. only a little bit

**Author's Note:**

> I should really, probably work on my sleep schedule.

“Okay, wait. You can’t like get mad or something.” Peter Parker says with a grunt as swings onto an empty rooftop.

“God, Parker. I swear, if you’re bleeding out somewhere, I’m not ever watching Star Wars with you again.” Tony Stark’s exasperated voice fills the Spider-Man suit.

“I love the fact that out of all things you could do to teach me a lesson, not watching Star Wars with me is the first thing that comes to mind.”

“Mm-hm. Out with it, kid.”

“I, uh, well I may have slightly broken my arm. Only a little bit though!” He hastens to add.

“Only a- “Mr. Stark lets out a sigh and Peter can clearly picture him rubbing a tired hand over his face. “Enlighten me as to what makes it ‘only a little bit’.

“Well, it doesn’t look that swollen. And it’s only bent a kinda weird. Not like super weird. Only kind of.”

There’s a pause, then, “What did I do to deserve this?” Mr. Stark mutters, “For God’s sake, just admit you’re hurt. You already lost your pride when you donned that onesie and decided to fight crime in it.”

“Okay, first of all- “

“I’m tracking your suit. Be there in a second.”

Peter let out a light smile despite the shooting pain that was now occurring in his right wrist. Fucking _Iron Man_ was coming to pick him up. Yup, he was living the life.

Oh, the shooting pain was down his whole arm now. Huh. That was probably not a good sign. Only a few seconds later, the familiar clank of the Iron Man boots echoed across the rooftop.

“Mr. Peter Parker. We meet again.” 

“You saw me yesterday.” Peter pushes himself into a standing position using his good wrist. A smile is already making its way across his face. “And are we pretending that you didn’t show up with pizza at my apartment last week because you thought MJ had ditched me for Valentine’s? You love me.”

The Iron Man suit opens to reveal a grinning Tony Stark. “I’m rubbing off on you. This cannot happen. We must keep Peter Parker innocent and adorable. No sarcasm. I’m filing a restriction order against you first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Uh-huh, yeah okay. And I’m not adorable Mr. Stark.”

“Sure.” The billionaire extends his hand to Peter. “Let’s get you home, and then we’ll fix you up. I don’t want to have to face an angry Aunt Hottie. She’s scary.” He shudders, and his face lights up when Peter lets out a giggle.

Tony lets the nanotech engulf him, and then turns to Peter who he promptly picks up, ignoring the muttered protests from the boy.

“I can honestly swing back. I’m _fine,_ Mr. Stark.”

“Fine people don’t have broken wrists. Fine people haven’t been to space and fought aliens. Fine people don’t- “

“Okay, okay, I get it!”

Tony lets out a laugh and adjusts Peter into a more comfortable position.

...........................................................................................................................................

Only minutes later, they’re walking through the halls of the Compound. “FRIDAY scan him. Mr. Parker has a history of hiding injuries and I want to make sure a broken arm is the only thing out of place.”

“What?!” Peter looks aghast. “When have I ever hidden an injury from you?”

Tony lets out a snort. “Really? You're kidding. Let's see. A month ago, when you got shot. When we were fighting those dudes with shitty tech and you didn't tell me you had three broken ribs. When you had an entire fucking _building_ collapse on you and I was not told. Granted, I did take your suit away so that one's on me. But not that time you were fighting those dealers and you got stabbed. Do I need to continue?”

Peter blushes and shakes his head. Tony chuckles and puts his arm around Peter’s shoulders. FRIDAY reported no further injuries and Peter responded with a snarky, “I told you so!”

They made it to the main sitting room, and Peter took a seat on one of the many open couches.

Tony knelt next to him with a brace. “I’m going to set it so that the bone heals properly, alright? Shouldn’t hurt too bad.”

Peter nods. He feels Tony’s fingers, cool to the touch on his wrist. The billionaire gives it a slight twist, and Peter lets out a hiss as his arm pops back into place.

Tony gives him a lopsided smile. “Let’s just get this brace on.” Peter slides his arm into the thick black fabric and Tony tightens the Velcro shut. Tony ruffles his hair, and then moves to put the supplies away.

“Can we watch Star Wars? Tomorrow’s a Saturday and I wasn’t bleeding out when you found me.”

Tony lets out a laugh. “‘Course we can, Pete. You set up the movie. I’ll get the popcorn and call Aunt May.” He paused as Peter, all smiles, left the room. Shit, this kid. He was making him act fucking _parental_. Tony shook his head at himself as he got out the butter.

......................................................................................................

Tony’s enters the dimmed movie room to find Peter completely submerged in a cocoon of blankets.

“And you say you’re not adorable?” He teases, an amused smirk on his face.

Peter smiles drowsily in response. “Not adorable, just sleepy.”

“Anyone who uses _sleepy_ instead of tired is adorable. It’s a fact. I don’t make the rules.”

“Shut up.”

“God, I gotta get on the restriction order.” Tony smirks.

But he scooches in next to Peter anyways. He puts his arm around the kid and tries to ignore the explosion of warmth in his chest when Peter immediately nuzzles into him. This kid was making him feel things. Like…lovey dovey things. Tony Stark didn’t do lovey dovey things. Not with anyone besides Pepper. He was Tony Stark. Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist.

Peter let out a soft snore and rested his head on Tony’s chest.

Okay, then. He was Tony Stark: Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist…Dad?

Oh, shit.


	2. listen to your therapist, they said.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares suck. Peter knows this. So does Tony Stark. 
> 
> Lots and lots of FLUFF.
> 
> Yes, this is inspired by a meme I found on tumblr.

Peter Parker hated nightmares. He hated them almost as much as he hated capitalism. Which honestly; kid who hates capitalism but who’s father figure is fucking Tony Stark?

It’s complicated, okay?

Anyways, nightmares. He’d had them for as long as he could remember, really.

When he was little, he dreamed of his parent’s car crash. Peter hadn’t physically been there, but somehow that made it worse. Not knowing what his parents would have said. What they felt.

Geez. Trauma? Check.

And then Ben. The vivid dreams that had plagued his sleep were some of the worst. Having to relive the moment was not something he was anxious to do.

And then of course, the warehouse. That had dropped on him. And which in turn, Peter had lifted up and off himself. Cause he was Spider-Man.

Mm-hm.

Whaat? Peter? Mentally scarred? Don’t know what you’re talking about.

Oh, and then that whole dying thing. Yeah. You’d think as a Gen-Z it’d have been welcome.

Okay, yup. Not the time for depressed generational jokes. Got it.

Back to the topic at hand: nightmares. Honestly, truly fucking bastards.

Peter hoped that his nightmare’s chargers only worked from one angle. And that the ice cream machine at its local McDonald’s was always broken. That’s how much he despised nightmares.

So, when Peter wakes up from a particularly jarring dream from Titan, he’s pissed. He flounders around in bed, before gaining a sense of his surroundings. Deep breaths. His heart rate is still a bit too fast.

_Just breathe, Parker._

The vigilante turns his head towards his alarm clock, wanting to check at which ungodly hour his nightmares had decided to strike this time. But his clock was dead. And in need of new batteries.

“The alarm clock is being homophobic.” Peter mutters as he extends a hand, searching for his phone. “I can’t help who I love. Be yourself, kids.”

His spidey senses pick up a rhythmic vibrating emitting from his closet. Peter makes his way over to the door, tripping over dirty laundry as he does so. He grips the doorknob.

“The monster in my closet is the only person who loves me.”

Peter locates the phone and sees a missed call from the contact titled “The Supreme Capitalist”.

Why the fuck is Tony Stark calling him at -wait, check the time, dumbass- _3’o clock_ in the morning? He’s about to call back, his thumb poised over the contact, but of course his phone just has to die.

“Transphobic.” Peter’s hands grab around, hoping to land his charger. “This is a fucking hate crime.”

Charger located. Now, to plug it in.

It doesn’t go in. Why isn’t his fucking charger working from all the fucking angles?

“Listen to your therapist, they said. You’ve been through a lot of trauma, they said.”

Peter throws a Finding Nemo pillow across the room.

 _“Well, your breathing exercises aren’t working now, are they, Deborah?”_ He whisper screams, careful not to wake Aunt May.

“I’m just going to let you get this shit out. Sounds like you’ve been through it.” A voice comes from the floor.

Peter drops onto his heels, as he frantically tries to find his phone. Guess it did plug in then. Hmph. “Mr. Stark?”

“The one and only.” Peter can hear the clink of metal echoing from the other side and deduces that his mentor is in the lab.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Why aren’t you?”

“I like staring at the ceiling and fantasizing about eating cement with sprinkles in it during the early morning hours.”

“Productive.”

“I’m responsible like that.”

A fond chuckle from the other end. “What’s really up, kid? Lay it on me.”

Peter’s hand comes up to scratch the back of his head. “It’s nothing.”

“So, it’s something. Spill.” He can practically hear Tony’s smirk through the phone.

“It’s just…nightmares. Nothing big. I can deal by myself. Don't need your help, Mr. Stark.” He’s frustrated and it’s coming out wrong.

“…Kid?”

God, Parker look what you did.

“No, no, no Mr. Stark. I’m sorry. That was completely uncalled for. I-I’m sorry.” Peter flops onto his bed, mentally cursing his existence. Yay.

“Hey, Pete, it’s okay. But just from experience, letting your monsters eat you up inside isn't the best form of self preservation. I exist to help, kid." 

Peter feels familiar lump in his throat, signifying that he was about to go all waterworks. And it wasn’t happy tears.

_The nightmares finally cracked me, huh?_

He puts the phone face down on the bed and rubs at his damp eyes. God, he was such a baby.

“Peter? Kid, you okay?”

He can’t. He can’t. Peter gasps for his next breath as dust fills his lungs. His hands are dust. Dust. It’s all dust. Make it stop.

“Pete? Peter?”

“M-Mr. Stark. H-help m-m-me.”

He hears a rustle on the other end. “Okay, kid. It’s okay. It’s all right. Breathe with me, yeah? In. Out. In. Out. Now you’re getting it. Just a few more.”

His mentor repeats the breathing motions, waiting for the sound of Peter following suit. Once he hears the boy’s breathing even out, he’s quick to offer reassurance.

Tony Stark knew how panic attacks worked. He was used to them, but Peter shouldn’t have to be.

“Great job, buddy. You’re okay. You’re at home with May. It’s April 15, 2024. You’re coming over to visit the lake house tomorrow. Morgan can’t wait to see you.” Tony says, as gently as possible.

He’s only trying to help. He did help. But it makes Peter feel like a fucking kid.

“This is so stupid. I’m so- "

“Finish that sentence and you _will_ be sorry.” He hears his mentor breathe out a sigh on the other end. “Kid. Listen to me. Are you listening? I’m quizzing you after, so ears open. In fact, here.”

Peter almost drops his phone as a hologram of Tony Stark, greasy hair, dirty shirt, and all appears over his phone.

“Excuse the appearance, I’ve been working on a new update to the suit. Explosions may have ensued.”

Peter lets out a wet chuckle, and Tony’s face morphs into a gentle smile.

“Kid, look at me.” He waits patiently until Peter does so. “Nightmares and panic attacks don’t make you weak. Don’t you ever think that. Ever. I have nightmares and panic attacks. You know that, right?”

Peter nods.

“It doesn’t make me weak. And kid, you’re seventeen. Too young for this shit, but it happened to you anyways. The fact that you’re able to get out of bed in the morning is amazing to me. Kid, you’re so fucking strong. I-I’m so proud of you.”

Peter lets a smile overtake his face.

“Aww, who knew Tony Stark was a big softie?”

Tony gives him a playful glare, but the effect is ruined when he lets out a chuckle. “Well, apparently it’s becoming common knowledge.”

Peter plays with the edges of his comforter as he contemplates. Tony waits patiently.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” He breathes.

“Nothing to thank me for, bud.” Tony leans in. “You better call me anytime shit goes down. I don’t care if it’s a nightmare or a giant lava monster, you call me.”

“A giant lava monster?”

“Anything’s possible.”

Peter grins, and Tony’s eyes light up at the expression. The teenager flops onto his bed. “Nightmares are homophobic.”

“…What?”

“Nightmares. They’re homophobic. They’re attacking cause I’m bi.”

Tony gives him a look that he can’t quite place. Fond? Exasperated? Fon-xasperated?

“Kid, I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Hmph.”

Tony gives him that look again. “Get to bed, kid. Happy’s coming to pick you up in the morning, and he turns into a real grump when you make him wait.”

“Has he tried therapy?”

“Have you?”

“I just came out here to have a good time and honestly, I’m feeling so attacked right now.”

“…Huh?”

“Nothing, nothing.” A smile graces Peter’s features. “I’ll go to bed if you go to bed.”

“Kids these days.” Tony shakes his head and looks at the screen with a smirk. “You drive a hard bargain, young buck. Fine, I’ll close out for the night.”

He starts to clean up, putting away all his tools and wiping down the counters, when he hears a snore. Tony looks at the illuminated picture and is met with the adorable sight of Peter Parker sleeping. His hair falling above his eyebrows, and a peaceful, innocent look upon his face.

“Night, kid.” He whispers and makes to end the call.

“Mmm, Love you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony freezes. Did he just? Yup, he did.

“I-I love you too, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be turning into a 5+1 fic. Who knows?

**Author's Note:**

> You guys, you made it to the end! I hope you liked it. This was just some pure, cute fluff :)


End file.
